


Smokes for Breakfast, Plastics for Snacks

by hiddenlove



Series: Oh, We're So Young [1]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: 2004, Brallon - Freeform, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pre-Panic! Era, Religious Conflict, Sexual Tension, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:59:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlove/pseuds/hiddenlove
Summary: "These next few years are supposed to be the dawn of some newfound era. Music's supposed to be better, food's supposed to be healthier, everything is supposed to be cheaper."- - -Brendon isn't even Christian, but he definitely goes to Church twice on every weekend and definitely wears a cross neckelace most days.Dallon isn't even in highschool, but he definitely has a crush and definitely needs to start hosting more house parties.- - -Featuring: more than once wasted cigarette, pocket bibles, and an abundance of the word "dude".





	1. Keeper of the Keg

**Author's Note:**

> For everyone.
> 
> I take requests on Tumblr for more than one bandom ship! Special thanks to anyone that's been keeping up with me. I appreciate it greatly.
> 
>  
> 
> If another chapter doesn't end up being uploaded, I'm very sorry!

"The year is 2004." He started, pausing to take a large drag of his cigarette. "You can do whatever, and whoever, you want."

"I feel like I've heard this before..." Brendon replied, shaking his head slowly. "But you're not wrong. It's not the 90's anymore, is it."

The other man smiled. "Those were our years, Brendon. But you can _definitely_ start a new one in these ones. We're in the generation of this new millennium, man. It'll make history."

"Uh, no shit it will." Brendon rolled his eyes cockily, and then went and snatched the cigarette from his friend Ryan's fingers before taking a long breath in of the smoke. "Besides," He returned the nearly gone cigarette to Ryan before continuing. "These next few years are supposed to be the dawn of some newfound era. Music's supposed to be better, foods supposed to be healthier, everything is supposed to be cheaper."

Ryan snorted. "Alright, Brendon. Don't forget to go home before your mom finds out you've been skipping class to hang out with your scandalous adult friend."

Brendon slapped Ryan's arm and frowned. "You're, like, not even a year and a half older than me. Shut up."

"Yes, but that does _technically_ mean I'm older than you."

"You're an asshole." Brendon snickered, shaking his head. 

"True that shit."

 

\- - -

 

Brendon was really good at making friends with all the wrong people. At least Ryan thought so, but then again, he was pretty much Brendon's only friend in Illinois at this point. 

Well, that's untrue. He also had Spencer. Spencer might not have been his closest friend (that title would probably get thrown to Ryan), but he was a damn good listener and always had a spare cigarette for Brendon whenever he had unexpectedly ran out.

**Are you sure about this?**

Brendon looked to his left, raising an eyebrow at Spencer. They were both sitting in their last class of the day, sharing an awkward paper-based conversation whilst trying not to get caught passing notes to eachother under the desks. Brendon scratched a reply with a pencil quickly and quietly, folding it into tiny fourths before flicking it onto Spencer's desk. It was a childish thing to do, but their teacher was oddly strict.

**what do you mean**

In about a minute, he received another hastily scratched out note, this one sporting a few thumb prints too.

**Use proper grammar, this is English class! Are you sure about the whole sneaking out thing? Your family would be so mad...**

Brendon kicked his friend under the desk, earning a sharp glare from their teacher. Because they've been known to be... "too friendly" with one another during class, they have been placed in front of almost every teachers desk. Just like middle school, Brendon thought. 

**of course i'm sure. also shut up. lowercase is gonna be the big thing one day.**

He flicked it over to Spencer, who in return read it and snorted a little loudly. Their teacher then rapped a ruler on his desk loudly, which made Spencer jump a little bit and Brendon roll his eyes sarcastically. 

After that, their note-passing ended abruptly.

 

\- - -

 

"Where the _heck_ are we even going, Bren?" Spencer asked. The two had eventually mustered enough courage to sneak out during their parents weekly dinner, even managing to snatch one of their dads new pack of cigarettes. Brendon and Spencer both had one lit, and Brendon sighed in bliss as he felt the smoke fill his lungs. He knew that cigarettes were bad for people. He _also_ thought it was the coolest shit ever.

"Party. Heard Ryan's going." Brendon answered easily, flicking his cigarette lightly and sending a few embers down to the sidewalk below. They glowed faintly in the afternoon lighting, fluttering to the grass and burning out instantly. "He texted me the address."

"You and Ryan are _so_ in love. It's saddening, really. Like Romeo and Juliet, only one of you probably won't die." Spencer sighed. 

Brendon punched his friend in the shoulder sarcastically, scowling. "Ryan's got a girlfriend, idiot."

"I'm no idiot," Spencer began to say, but was cut off as Brendon began laughing vividly. "Shut up- I mean, sorry! Um, stop laughing please? Ugh, Brendon! _Brendon!_ " 

Brendon was laughing loudly, his chest shaking slightly as he continued to try and keep his cigarette safe. "Brendon, I swear..."

"I-I'm sorry, dude. You're just, less intimidating than a goddamned goldfish."

"Don't say that." Spencer hissed, slapping Brendon's shoulder lightly. "You know that if anyone in this neighbourhood heard you saying things like that, our moms would have our heads."

The other boy sighed heavily, snubbing the end of his smoke on a street light carelessly. "You're lame." _And correct_ , he didn't say, and for good reason. Nonetheless, he figured that he would listen to his better half for once, and keep his language down for a while. 

"Besides, we're going to a party. Be as crazy as you want _then_ , alright bro?" Spencer added.

"...Okay, fine. Fine." Brendon agreed briskly, then deciding to fish around in his back jean pockets for his phone. When he flipped it open (he really hoped he did that forcefully enough to break the damned thing one day), he smirked upon seeing that he had seven unread text messages.

Two of them were from his mom, four of them were from his dad, and one was from Ryan. He opened them all, walking close to Spencer in hope of some sort of assistance as he typed out responses. 

 

**[ 8:33 P.M. ]**

**Mother:** Did you sneak out again 

**Mother:** The Lord is watching please be respectful also you're probably in trouble when you get back

 

He cringed internally at the way his mother acted. She wanted to be as close as a friend, but also have that strict notion that most responsible Christian mothers did in fact have. Those two elements were almost like oil and water, however. They rarely mixed, and didn't in his mothers case.

 

**[ 8:51 P.M. ]**

**You:** ok

 

Brendon then looked up swiftly to make sure his friend was still with him, and he was, now fiddling with an mp3 player and some overlarge headphones. The next four texts were from his dad.

 

**[ 8:38 P.M. ]**

**Father:** you're in big trouble Mister!! No cellphone for a week when you get back. you missed afternoon prayer circle.

 **Father:** You know we love and appreciate you Brendon you just take things too far and disappoint us.

 **Father:** I love you bren 

**Father:** but you disappoint us.

 

He didn't even reply to that one, because it didn't effect Brendon one bit. He rarely used his cell phone anyway. It wasn't as entertaining as his Gameboy or hanging out with people he cared about, but his parents thought it was his favorite thing in the entire world. Probably because it was everyone else's favorite thing in the entire world.

The last one was from Ryan, and he felt relief pull at his stomach. At least somebody was there not to punish him or act as if he was some sort of beelzebub sent from hell itself.

 

**[ 9:00 P.M. ]**

**Ryan:** party's open at my friends house. 13448 left lane. Past the bookstore. B there or B square.

 

Brendon smiled down at his phone, laughing slightly. Spencer turned at the noise, pulling an earbud out of his ear as he did so. "What's so funny?"

"Ryan texted me the address. He's just..." Brendon paused, thinking of what he wanted to say next. "I don't know, nevermind. He's just so weird."

"You _love_ him! You love, love, love, love Ryan freaking Ross." Spencer replied casually, shoving his headphones back into his front pocket and pulling out his own phone instead. "That's alright. I support you, dude. Just don't get all homo on me. I'm taken."

Brendon laughed, because it came easily with Spencer around. "Taken by who, the church?"

"Sure." Spencer added, shrugging slightly. In reality, Brendon knew that his friend did have a girlfriend of his own. "Speaking of which, Haley said that she's coming!"

Brendon smiled at his friend, totally happy that now Spencer would have someone to vent to and act puppydog-like around. He was sure that the two of them would most likely have a successful relationship in the future, minus the obvious social differences. For example, Haley has a family that isn't religious. Spencer has a family that is _too_ religious. It's a little sad. "Awesome, she's cool." And, truth be told, she is pretty goddamned rad. Haley is the sort of person you can just treat like one of the guys. That's a rarity in most girls these days, Brendon thought to himself.

"I know she is, bro." Spencer replied. "Do you know who else is gonna be there?"

Brendon shrugged. "Honestly, I have not a single idea. Probably some of Ryan's awkward college friends. Maybe that Jon dude he mentioned before."

"Jon?" Spencer asked quizzically, eyebrows furrowing together with confusion evident. "Who's that?"

"Just a guy. I've meet him, like, once I think. With Ryan. He's pretty cool, if not a little _weird_ , but so are you and I tolerate you pretty good." Brendon winked, and Spencer slapped his arm.

" _You're_ the weird one." Spencer sighed, and then looked up and smiled lightly. "Now, be chill, we're here."

And they were there, right where Ryan said that the party would be held. If Brendon didn't get the address from his friend, he'd assume that nothing eventful was going on inside. The lights were off, and nothing was peeking out from the curtains. The only thing that could've possibly given away the fact that a party was going on inside was the people drinking on the front steps casually. "Hell. Yes." Brendon said, grinned.

Spencer and Brendon walked up the cement steps to the front door, and there Brendon read a sign that said: **Door is Open, Come In! -D.** Brendon didn't know who D was, but he assumed that he ran this party. Or simply owned the house, probably.

"Come on, slow-ass." Brendon said, pulling Spencer along with him as the duo entered the house together.

The first thing that caught his attention fully was the calm-demeanour of the entire place. There were no flashing lights, no disco lights causing someone to probably turn epileptic, and no over-the-top music blaring in his ears. A few people mingling here and there, but other than that, nothing spontaneous. Brendon didn't want to seem disappointed, but at least Spencer looked semi-relieved.

The two entered, both equally as confused. "This isn't what I was expecting." Spencer whispered into Brendon's ear, and he nodded in silent agreement with his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ryan, sitting on a ratty couch and chatting up his girlfriend. Brendon didn't want to come off as pushy or rude to one of his closest friends, but he deserved some sort of answer or explanation. 

"Um... Ryan?" Brendon asked, approaching Ryan. He turned his head to look at Brendon, and smiled warmly.

"Hey dude! Knew you'd make it. What's up."

Brendon sighed, frustrated, and leaned over to whisper in his ear so that nobody else could overhear him. "This isn't what I was expecting."

Ryan's expression turned sour, and he frowned. "What do you mean? You just got here."

"Family get-togethers aren't my kind of 'party', Ryro." Brendon added, quirking an eyebrow upward. "You said there'd be at least alcohol."

The other man looked confused momentarily, and then grinned. "Aw, ohhh. You haven't been _downstairs_ yet. That's where the fun really is!"

Brendon looked sceptical, but nodded and left Ryan to talk with his girlfriend. She waved to Brendon, and Spencer waved back in place of him, before Brendon began to drag his friend around in search of the stairs. Eventually, with only a little bit of help from a friendly stranger holding a beagle for some fucking reason, they managed to come upon some stairs, where Spencer commented that he definitely heard someone laughing loudly from down there.

(Spencer purposely didn't mention that he most definitely heard Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana blasting loudly from the basement.)

Brendon opened the basement door with ease, smiling to himself in excitement upon hearing the overplayed Nirvana song playing loudly from the supposed speakers downstairs. "Oh, oh dude. This has to be good. C'mon!" Brendon exclaimed, dragging a very suspicious Spencer downstairs.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming! Oh my gosh, _Brendon,_ you're practically dragging me. Slow down."

Brendon, however, didn't slow down. Instead, he managed to make it downstairs to the real party without killing him or his friend in the process. 

Instead of a Christian conformative party like upstairs, the downstairs looked exactly like how Brendon assumed parties were supposed to be like. On the right, there was a keg, surrounded by people. Right under the stairs, a speaker system stood, with someone fondling with a few chords. The rest of the room was full of people, a few of them situated at the makeshift bar on the leftmost side of the room.

"Dude." Brendon said, eyes wide. " _Dude._ "

"Holy crap." Spencer remarked, looking around. Probably for his girlfriend, Brendon noted, because she definitely wasn't the kind of person that would've been upstairs when a place like this sat hidden downstairs. Brendon watched as Spencer spotted Haley, chatting up one of her friends. The two made eye contact, and Spencer went up to engulf her in a hug. Brendon shrugged. Their kind of thing, anyway. Spencer probably would've just told him not to do dangerous shit if they hung out the entire time.

Brendon scratched an itch behind his ear, and then instantly decided to go over to where the keg was. Later, he would probably ask himself why a keg was situated in a place like this when a not-too-shabby bar was only a couple of feet away, but for now, he wanted to drink.

"Are you sure you're old enough to be doin' this, man?" Someone, tall and with admirable hair asked Brendon, and he only shrugged.

"I dunno. You don't know, either." Brendon replied, filling a red solo cup with what appeared to be just straight beer. He sniffed it, and then began to sip at it slowly. If it was strong, which it didn't appear to be, he'd rather not be wasted three minutes into arriving at this party. "Who cares, anyway." 

The other man smirked. "I do. I run this party."

"Pfft." Brendon said in reply, rolling his eyes as he took another small drink from his cup. "Cool. Y'gonna stop me from drinking if I _am_ underage?"

"Nah. I could care less, to be honest. You look like the kind of boy that's done this before."

Brendon scowled into his alcohol. "I'm not a boy."

"Ah, alright. Sorry. You look like the kind of _girl_ that's done this before." He looked corky, and Brendon immediately grew a little bit wary of this new person. He turned away, rolling his eyes once more.

"Hey, don't get offended. Sorry. I'm Dallon." The stranger, Dallon, said, holding out a hand. Brendon turned around and reluctantly took it, firmly shaking his hand. "You are...?"

"Uh, B-Brendon." 

Dallon smirked a lopsided smile again, nodding along to the beat of the music in the background. "Awesome."

"...Yeah." Brendon replied, not sure of how to answer that himself. "Why does upstairs look like a family get-together?" Brendon asked before he could actually help himself, and instantaneously his face grew a little red in embarrassment. Before Dallon could reply, he figured he'd down what was in his cup and disregard what he had said earlier. At least then he'd have the drinks to blame for his boldness.

But Dallon only snorted in reply, shaking his head slightly. "Haha, very funny, _Brendon._ It's, uh, it's so people can have a good time, and also have a quiet place to go that's not the freezing outside. This is Illinois, after all."

"True." Brendon agreed, and waited a second before turning around to fill his cup with more weird beer. 

"Uh, besides. Ryan made me have a place like that."

Brendon looked up. "Ryan Ross?"

"Yeah." Dallon answered. "You know him?"

"He's my best friend." Brendon said, grinning. "Said you were one of his friends, too. That and Jon, I think...?"

"Ah, yeah! Jon's my best friend. He's older than me, a sophmore I'm sure." Brendon nodded, listening to Dallon talk. He was cool, Brendon could admit, and if Ryan liked him, Brendon thinks that he could most definitely get used to him. "Ryan's never mentioned you before."

That stung only a little bit, but he shrugged it off. Ryan only really liked to talk about philosophy and colors and weird things nobody else talked about. "Oh. Well, yeah. He's my closest friend. And Spencer, too."

Brendon pointed Spencer out to Dallon, who was currently dancing with his girlfriend in the corner with a smile on his face. They were, undoubtedly, the goals Brendon would have for a relationship. "There, he's the one dancing with his girlfriend."

"He looks like fun." Dallon commentated, smiling warmly towards Brendon.

"Oh, he's not. Unless you drag him along, like I decided to do." Brendon smiled back at Dallon, sipping once again on his beer. He then felt a buzz in his back pocket, and groaned inwardly.

Brendon pulled his phone out, flipping it open and glaring at the screen. Dallon was watching him, but he didn't care. He got a text message from Ryan, and that made him feel a little better.

 

**[ 9:23 P.M. ]**

**Ryan:** have you met dallon yet? he runs the prties. yd like him.

 

Brendon snorted, which earned an odd look from Dallon, but he shrugged him in a way he hoped suggested that he didn't really know either. 

 

**[ 9:23 P.M. ]**

**You:** with him right now. you're bad at timing.

 

"Hey, this might be weird..." Dallon said, as soon as Brendon fisted his phone back into his pocket. "But can I get your number? I've gotta go in a second, and you seem cool."

Brendon felt his cheeks heat up slightly, but he hoped that the dark atmosphere and loud music distracted Dallon from that fact. 

"Um, uh! Yes. Do you have paper or anything? I have a pen." 

"Just, um..." Dallon looked around the room, eventually looking at Brendon helplessly. "Just write it on my arm."

Brendon nodded, fishing out a sharpie from his hoodie pocket and scribbling out his phone number onto his new friends forearm. Dallon quickly then slid his sleeve down, hiding the evidence. "There."

Dallon smiled. He threw his empty cup he'd been holding away in the nearby trash can, and gave Brendon a suggestive wink before he walked away briskly. Brendon watched him walk up the stairs, and probably, Brendon thought sadly, out of his life forever. People never stuck around that long. Especially people from parties.

"Dude! Dude. Bro. Brendon." Brendon was shook out of his trance moments later by his friend Spencer, giggling like a child. Great. He's definitely gotten to the alcohol. "Was that your boyfriend?"

"No, Spenc. Shut up." Brendon punched him in the shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes.

"Then why'd you look so sad to see him go...?" Spencer puckered his lips and made a kissing motion towards Brendon, who replied by groaning outwardly.

Then again, Spencer did have a point. He doesn't really know why that made him so upset.

"Dunno, he was cool. Is the beer any good over there, dude?" Brendon asked, trying to pivot the conversation. Spencer, in his slightly buzzed state, didn't notice the topic change.

"Oh, man! It's high-quality stuff, here, lemme show you..."

 

\- - -

 

The next morning, Brendon ended up waking up with one of the weirdest hangovers he's ever had to manage before. Usually they were either unbearable, or made him want to vomit. This one felt _unrealistic_ , his head was just a little fuzzy and his headache was only a dull throb. 

He sighed heavily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckle. His instinct was to surf around for his phone, and when he found it lying under his bed, he grinned sloppily upon seeing the mass amounts of unread texts.

 

 **[ 12:54 A.M. ]**

**Spencer:** Bro!!! LOL. You're wasted bro!!

 **Spencer:** R U OK?

 **Spencer:** I can't find you. Me and Haley R going home, OK? 

**Spencer:** OK...?

 

Brendon rolled his eyes, but figured it'd be best to reply to his worrisome friend anyway.

 

**[ 12:44 P.M. ]**

**You:** im ok. you?

 

The next few texts were collectively from his parents, both threatening to take his phone if he ever decided to sneak out again. That only peeved him off in a normal sort-of way. Which was better, because that meant that he didn't actually have to give his parents his phone _yet_. Always a plus.

One was from Ryan, telling him that he hoped he had a good time, and the last two were from an unknown number.

 

**[ 4:08 A.M. ]**

**xxx-xxx-xxxx:** hello this is dallon! :-) :-)

 **xxx-xxx-xxxx:** hope u had fun last nght. it was so cool. don't think you're up. we should hang out sometime.

 

Brendon grinned at his screen, quickly changing the contact number to 'Dallon' and then going to type out a reply.

 

**[ 12:46 P.M. ]**

**You:** it's brendon. yes we should hang out sometime soon. i can always hang out whenever text me

 

He hit the send button, and then fumbled to turn off his phone and toss it on his nightstand. The next thing on his to-do list, greatly enough, was to shower. Brendon experimentally turned his head and lifted his arm up slowly, gagging when he realized that the only thing he smelled like was cheap beer and sweat.

 

\- - -

 

"You can't keep doing this, Brendon Boyd Urie!" Brendon's mother exclaimed loudly, causing Brendon to flinch due to the slight throbbing in the back of his head. "It's... mundane, is what it is! Unholy. Where is your _neckelace?!_ "

Brendon managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes, preparing some sort of reliable excuse. His mother made him and his siblings wear a cross necklace every day, just to remind eachother that the Lord was always watching or some bullshit. In all honesty, Brendon's sure that his mother is the reason he hates religion.

"Upstairs, mother. And I'm sorry, but I told you that they were showcasing Spencer's favorite movie, and we brought our pocket bibles to practice prayers afterward-"

"You can't do this again, sweetie." His mother sighed, rubbing at her temples. "You and Spencer are such good children, yes? Just _ask_ next time. Is that too much to ask, Brendon?"

Brendon chewed on the inside of his cheek. If only she knew. "No, mother." Inside, he was only slightly regretting anything that happened last night. Getting chewed out by his parents wasn't fun, but it was well worth it in the end. He made a new friend, Spencer probably finally got laid. Which is always a plus.

"Good. Now, go upstairs and get ready. It's afternoon Church today, you know that." Brendon inwardly groaned.

They had Church twice every weekend, Saturday evening and Sunday morning. He could respect the Sunday times, but Saturday was strictly something they only did to look more religious than any one of them felt. Brendon feels like he could memorize everything in one of these stupid bibles if you gave him a few extra weeks. Not that he's asking for any more time, Christ.

Brendon slowly made his way upstairs, only getting stopped once by his older brother. 

"Little bro. How was last night?" Matt asked, raising an eyebrow. Matthew was only a year older than Brendon, supposedly in online schooling as of now, but he acted far more superior than any of his other family members. At least him and Brendon had the same mindset. "Managed to avoid the mom rant for now."

"Hey, Matt. It was super fun. Uh, I gotta go get ready though." Brendon smiled slightly, letting his grin fall instantly after turning his back to walk upstairs. God, his head fucking _hurt._ At least he wasn't vomiting, Brendon thought to himself. Then it would've totally been given away.

Brendon's lucky like that.

 

\- - -

 

Some hair gel and a new pair of dress shoes later, Brendon was finally ready for Church. He managed not to get worked up about the bags under his eyes, figuring he could steal the concealer from his sisters purse if he really needed it.

(She probably wouldn't be mad. At least _one_ of them wouldn't, which can be seen as an upside.)

Brendon had a lot of siblings, four to be exact, and for this reason his parents owned a van. It was approaching summertime already, yet his parents were too 'high class' to walk the four blocks to the church. His family was active, and alert. They made enough money for everyone to own a bike. But, fuck it. The environment doesn't matter. Brendon can't even talk, not really, he smokes cigarettes.

One of those is what he's craving right about now, too. He hasn't had one in less than a day, and it's starting to make him itch at his hands. None of his family noticed as he piled into the back of the van. He was the middle child. Everyone else took priority before him.

"Everyone buckled up?" His dad asked, and Brendon mumbled a 'yes' to go along with everyone else's cheery ones. They loved Church. It was so cool to them, all of his siblings, but it was definitely fresh hell to Brendon.

The ride was uneventful, Brendon stared out of the window and toyed with his phone the five minutes it took. A car ride was pointless.

Everyone raced to get out of the van first, be the one to enter early and get a small grin from one of the chior singers. His sister had a crush on the eldest leader of the chorus, and although he was a full three or four years older than her, he could understand why. He was cute, and friendly.

If he had told that aloud, his father would've most definitely slapped him in the back of his head.

Brendon left the van last, shoving his hands in the pockets of his black dress pants and entering Church behind his mom and his dad. They were too early, per usual, but the people that were early too consisted of a single crying baby and two elderly people coddling it. His head throbbed slowly, and Brendon tried to ignore it as he took his seats alongside his siblings.

"Brendon, roll your cuffs up. You look impolite." His mother scolded, and Brendon had no choice but to do as told. If he disobeyed, after last night, his mom would totally have his phone AND his head.

Ten minutes later, Brendon saw Spencer and his family enter.

Spencer's family was very similar to Brendon's own. Catholic, conservative, and oddly gigantic. He lived with his parents, with one sister and two grandparents. And occasionally an uncle, but Spencer doesn't like to talk about him because he creeps him out. That's understandable.

Spencer sat down next to Brendon, and Brendon could tell that he looked absolutely disheveled. He rubbed at his eyes, and sighed. "This is the worst. Why did you let me do that?" He whispered, knowing that if either of their parents found out, he'd be dead for sure. They were deep in conversation about the weather, though, and didn't hear it.

"I got used to it after a while. How bad is it?" Brendon asked, raising an eyebrow. "Mine isn't that bad."

"Ugh." Spencer winced, shrugging. "Like, it's not my first hangover, but it's gotta be the worst one yet. Did you have fun?" He asked, a faint smile playing on the corners of his lips. Brendon didn't know what he could've been so coy about.

"Yeah, the people were nice."

Spencer then full on smirked, leaning in closer to make his voice completely masked. "You and that one dude, did you guys hit it off?"

Brendon blinked. He didn't understand.

And then it dawned on him that Spencer was most definitely referring to Dallon, and he scowled. "Shut up. You're an idiot, no, we didn't hit it off or whatever you're implying. Did you and _Haley_ finally do the do?"

"Do the do is such a kindergarten term." Spencer replied. "But, no. We didn't. Did Dallon leave you his number?"

"No. I left him his."

Spencer bit down on his bottom lip to try and keep himself from seeming too suspicious. "Oh my god. You are so gonna get with that one dude in the sweater. What's his name, again?"

Brendon groaned internally. He knew back in tenth grade that telling Spencer he was gay was going to be a big mistake. Now he was getting total shit for it all the time.

"Dallon," Brendon said, trying to appear not eager to talk about his newest friend. At least, he hoped they were considered friends. To be fair, he wouldn't quite blame Dallon if he told Brendon to back off. They did only meet a day ago... "He's a freshman in college, I think?"

"Ah, just like Ryan. Right up your alley." Spencer winked, and Brendon cringed inwardly. 

"I don't like Ryan like that." Brendon said instead of something cruel, and it was true. Ryan was way too platonic and head-over-heels for his girlfriend to think about Brendon that way, and Brendon was too busy thinking about his next cigarette to give a damn. "He's just _cool_ , you know? Hell. You're fucking cool, Spencer, and I'd date that one hideously old guy from the nursing home before you."

Spencer fluttered his eyelashes sarcastically. "You hurt me, Boyd. Surely I thought we were meant to be."

Brendon had a nice reply to that, but he was sharply cut off by his father hissing a _"shhhhh!"_ in his ear. That made Brendon jump slightly, but he was used to surprises at this point, and frustratingly stopped talking to his friend. Instead, he looked up to meet the Saturday priests eyes. They were green. His hands were big. Brendon thought that he reminded him of a squirmy spider. He hates spiders, by the way.

"Good fellows, friendly women. May we accomplish the triumph within our hearts! Let God know your needs, and let him make them his own priorities!" The man spoke, loud and annoyingly. Brendon could come up with a better preach in seven minutes flat. He's serious.

"Amen!" One of Brendon's siblings shouted, earning a large majority of the church's participation as well. Brendon could only cringe, watching as his mother swooned over her youngest daughters pride.

The priest spoke up once more, clearing his throat beforehand. Brendon wishes he could hand him some bottled water. "Furthermore, I hope these midday prayers are constant with you and whomever you love. It's lovely to know that we can accept and give thanks to everyone, regardless of what they have to offer." The man winked, and a few people chuckled. But it was respectable, and Brendon caught on to what he was implying briskly.

Everybody said their following 'amens', and then Brendon sighed in relief. It was now time for everyone to go and chat with one another, talk to eachother and whatnot. Brendon didn't have to do any of that, which was a goddamned plus if he's ever heard of one. He waved bye to Spencer as he left to talk to his parents relatives, and moped silently.

Until, apparently, Dallon fucking Whatshislastname showed up out of nowhere and grinned down at Brendon.

He almost didn't recognize him- though they only talked for a little while before, Dallon was slightly different looking, his hair was tidy and he was freshly shaven. Brendon stared at him for a few seconds before he raised his eyebrows, and finally found his voice.

_"Dude."_

Dallon winked. That fucker _winked_ , and Brendon could only stare. "Dude yourself. Hey, bud. You look fancy as balls." Dallon, also apparently, thought he could just plop himself down on Brendon's own moping bench and smile like an idiot. 

"I look fancy? You're wearing a fucking gray suit-"

"It's just a dress shirt." Dallon rolled his eyes, as if this was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "And these pants were eleven dollars."

Brendon continued to gape. "Dallon. I... have you been here the whole time? I didn't even see you, what the fuck! Fuck..."

"No, no! I literally just got here to keep up appearances and stuff. I don't go on Sundays, you know?" Dallon shrugged, answering Brendon's not-really-a-question question. "Also, you've got a pottymouth."

Brendon silently agreed that yes, he did curse too much. Whatever. "Whatever."

"So, your family drag you along?" Dallon asked, knowing damn well the answer was yes.

"Obviously. I'm sporting a hangover that'll last me all week, if I'm lucky." Brendon rolled his eyes, mumbling the last part of that sentence in case someone managed to be snooping in on him.

(Which, if they were, fuck them.)

"Haha, dude. That must suck, because I'm holding another party on Thursday." Dallon paused. "And you're going with me."

"What kind of madman throws a party on a Thursday?"

Dallon narrowed his eyes challengingly. "What kind of family goes to Church twice on weekends?"

"True..." Brendon sighed, admitting defeat. "But still. I've got- I'm busy on Thursday."

Dallon blinked, and then his lips curled into an evil smirk. "You've totally got _school_ on Thursday. Oh my god. What are you, a sophmore? You look like one."

 _"Dallon!"_ Brendon hissed, glaring at the other boy. "I'm a Senior. And I got held back a year, so fuck you."

Dallon laughed. Brendon tried to not compare that sound to angels chiming from above. "If you really need to know, I turn nineteen in April."

"Fine, fine. I'll admit defeat. I'm nineteen, turning twenty soon. I just. _Highschool?_ Ryan is insane."

Brendon decided that statement was a mutual kind of thing. "He damn sure is. Anyway, I'm still kind of shocked that I didn't see you come in-"

"Brendon!" 

Oh god. That was his mom. Oh _god._ She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes burning holes into Dallons own. He was, in fact, a stranger. Talking to her precious ignored son. Whatever shall anybody do?

"Who is this?" She asked, not bothering to sound friendly or anything. Brendon winced.

"Uh..." Brendon scrambled to come up with an excuse. And then, one hit him, and he thanked magical baby Jesus almighty for it. "He's, we met at the movies yesterday. The one I took Spencer to? The prophet one? He was super nice about it, and bought us popcorn."

Brendon's mom looked unconvinced. "How old is he?"

"I'm nineteen." Dallon answered, because he wasn't a ghost and could totally answer for himself, goddamnit. "Yeah, the uh, _movies_ were awfully fun, ma'am."

Brendon wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, because not only was Dallon a wonderful liar, he was also pretty fucking good at the whole 'making shit up as he went along' thing. Ma'am was a nice touch. His mother looked taken aback, and less angry, which was an upside.

"Alright. Okay. Boyd, we have to go."

"It's _Brendon_ , mom." Brendon argued, but stood up to leave anyway. He really didn't want to leave Dallon here alone, especially where Spencer could run up and interrogate him. But he had no choice.

Brendon's mom rolled her eyes, and Brendon's pretty sure that's where he got it from actually. "Alright, honey. Whatever you say. But let's go. Your aunts visiting."

Christ. He hates his aunt. His uncle, even more.

"Okay..." Brendon answered, giving a small wave to Dallon as he stood up to leave with his mother. His siblings followed suit, and Brendon watched Dallon stare at him the entire time. Kill him. Just, slay him. This was the worst moment of his entire life.

 

\- - -

 

**[ 3:12 P.M. ]**

**Dallon:** wow that had to B the worst moment of your life lol.

 **You:** it was murder me

 **Dallon:** haha. anyway. christian movie nite Thursday yes r no?

 **You:** ill think about it.

 **Dallon:** taking that as a yes! :-)

 **You:** damn you, dallon.

 

Not that he actually planned on seriously going, Brendon had decided what he would wear IF he decided to go on Thursday. Nothing was certian. And if something _was_ certain, which nothing was, he'd have to drag Spencer along with him. If something was going to happen.

"Dude, you're SO going to that party. Don't even deny it." Spencer said, closing his locker door abruptly. The two weren't locker buddies, or they weren't supposed to be. But Spencer stole the locker closer to Brendon so the two could chat without being obnoxious. (They were anyway.)

"I don't know, man. How would you know what I want or don't want to do anyway?" Brendon defended himself, grabbing one of his massive fucking textbooks and slamming his own locker shut. "You don't!"

"Bro." Spencer slapped a hand on his back. "You have everything pinned down but the wedding dress. It's meant to be, Thursday night."

"Shut the fuck _up!_ " Brendon said, his cheeks growing pink. Spencer snorted, laughing at his friends embarrassment. "You don't know anything, Smith."

Spencer's laughter died down momentarily, but Brendon couldn't help but see something real and knowing in his eyes. That pissed him off, knowing that Spencer might know something he doesn't. Unfair.

The pair had wandered off to their respective first hour class, ignoring the hollow teases of classmates. It's 2004, and gay is still somehow a synonym for idiotic. Brendon wondered how this would look in ten years, would that kind of behaviour be shunned? Disciplined? Would it remain the same?

He thinks of the latter being a possibility, and feels quite sad. Brendon is only snapped out of this disposition by his teacher clearing his throat to start teaching, and even then Brendon can't focus correctly for some reason.

 

\- - -

 

**[ 10:06 A.M. ]**

**Dallon:** have U made up your mind yet B?

 

Brendon tried not to laugh loudly. He was in his third hour class, and although his teacher was rather lenient, she might not take too kindly to someone toying off in the middle of a lesson.

 

 **You:** b as in bitch?

 **Dallon:** you're the one that suggested that! Not me! F*ck u! :-0 !

 

Again, Brendon was trying hard not to laugh. What was with this dude and exclamation points? He doesn't know. Dallon seemed like the kind of person who would rather mess around with an excessive amount of question marks or something.

 

 **You:** you offering, weekes? ;-)

 

And, yeah, Brendon might have felt a little stupid sending that to him, but it was all in good fun. At least, he hopes that Dallon saw it that way.

 

 **Dallon:** Shut up shouldn't U B in class or smthn?

 **You:** idk shouldn't u be in class or smthn too?

 **Dallon:** touche! Well played! But ur like 6 and I'm not. Hahaha!

 **You:** if im 6 does that make u 7?

 

Brendon bit his lip, holding in giggles. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spencer eyeing him up suspiciously. In an instant, he stopped smiling, instead trying to look invested in this trigonometry homework he was supposed to get done before, like, yesterday.

 

 **Dallon:** U wish, butthead. Didn't answer me though. U coming or what?

 

Brendon considered the options for a solid minute. Either he could stay home, catch himself up on much needed homework, work on an essay that was due next week, look at a couple more colleges (who was he kidding, he was definitely going to the same one that Ryan was in) or have some time to himself.

Or, he thinks to himself, he could go to this party and get wasted and probably regret it the morning after. Yeah, he thinks he knows what he's going to do.

 

 **You:** yes. ill be there.

 

\- - -


	2. The Flipflop Agenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party Party [ Crash ] Party
> 
> Cliffhanger, kinda
> 
> Updating shortly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im writing this on my 3ds lol
> 
> i appreciate feedback!

Brendon should've expected Thursday to be an epic disaster, but instead he was hopeful. By God, was he wrong.

So, so wrong.

Maybe it was his planning. Brendon is usually on point when it comes to organizing things, he's a fantastic liar and an even better thief. But he's not perfect, nobody is, and could've easily made a few small mistakes.

The plan for Thursday went like this;

 

1) Skip his last dumb shitty class

2) Sneak out of school and get a ride from Ryan or something (Dallon?)

3) Ignore parents

4) Pick up Spencer against his will

5) Arrive at party! ;)

 

Step one was easy. Brendon has skipped too many boring periods to count, he's surely up to fifty hours of detention time. Wasted oppertunity for another kid to get in trouble, Brendon always thinks slyly whenever he sees a teacher scribbling down a referrial. He won't show up for detention anyways.

Sneaking out of biology turned out to be one of the easiest tasks Brendon has ever accomplished.

Mr. Jackson was notorious for sleeping during his period and making one of the AP freshman wheel in his big, bulky video tape players. He'd insert a tape, usually a Disney movie like  _Anastasia_ or something. It made no sense, because none of this correlated with science at all, but it was fun either way. Biology was one of the classes that Brendon was passing with flying colors, actually. 

Nobody gave him a second glance as he slid out of the room, nothing but his biology textbook (it was expensive, alright!?) and his cellphone in his jean pockets. He stopped by his locker to grab his cigarettes, neatly hidden in his backpack, before heading out of school without a second glance. 

Then, Brendon decided to head towards Dallon's parked car.

If he were a junior, this would be thrilling. Around the end of sophomore year was when Brendon really started to rebel, he turned eighteen and thus had no legal restrictions. Brendon actually wanted to go to college, he was looking forward to it, but was missing some...  _things._ Credits, to be exact. So, instead of the school doing the right thing and letting him pass anyways, they made him redo the twelfth grade. Spencer didn't have to stay back- he was simply a year younger than Brendon. Turned eighteen this year, and will definitely pass with flying colors, unlike Brendon himself.

It's fair, though. Spencer works his hardest. Brendon just wants to get through this life without jumping off of a building.

"Hey, short stuff." Dallon says, when Brendon enters his car and flops down in the passenger seat with a hefty sigh. "Rough day?"

Brendon scoffs. "It wasn't exactly over yet."

"You skipped school!?" Dallon sounded surprised. That was sort of funny, so Brendon started laughing.

"Yeah, so what? We were just watchin' a dumb movie anyways. No big deal, really." Dallon shook his head in a sort of mom-friend like manner, but started to drive anyways.

"Buckle up."

Brendon did that, but it didn't go unlaughed at. "Okay,  _mom._ "

The taller man shook his head, and didn't comment on it. 

 

\- - -

 

The two of them arrive at Dallons house briskly, after a few boring radio songs and a debate over tapioca pudding. Brendon cringes, that shit is disgusting and no way should it belong in school lunches.

"Man, I'm so mad that I graduated now. I should've stayed back a year like you, get to enjoy that shit." Dallon says, smiling wide. He's got a charming smile, Brendon notices, like him. The two could charm anyone.

Brendon made a gagging noise, scowling as he slammed the door to Dallons car shut. "Gross! You're a gross human being! I should make you drive me home, just for that."

The house is clean, as usual. Brendon checks downstairs, he expected it to be dirty as fuck, but it was also spotless. All of the wine, alcohol and everything else was kept locked in a cupboard. The keg was missing, much to Brendons disappointment. "I thought you were hosting a party today?" 

"It's bring your own beer." Dallon answers, shrugging. "I'm not made of money, dude." 

Brendon fluttered his eyelashes, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to look destroyed. "Oh- you wouldn't do that to me! Make me, a poor, underprivileged Christian boy of good faith bring his own booze!?"

Dallons laughing, and it's such a sweet sound. Brendon feels pride sweep into his chest. 

"Oh, get over yourself. You're not even religious!"

"And you are?" Brendon fires back, sticking his tongue out.

"Mormon."

"Oh."

"Mhmm." The taller man nods, and leads Brendon back upstairs. "I'll share my beer- but only with you."

"And Spencer?" Brendon bites his lips, but wanting to push it. But, Spencer doesn't get out much and when he's let loose, boy, is he  _let loose._ "Pretty please?"

Dallon rolls his brown eyes, closing the basement door. He goes over and flops on the couch, groaning in fake-annoyance. "Ughhh. Fine. But you owe me like... twenty bucks."

"That's kinda ridiculous." Brendon comments. "Especially in this economy-"

"If you don't be quiet, I'll make it fourty."

That shuts Brendon up, but he can't help the large smile that creeps onto his face. Dallon. Oh, Dallondallondallon. He nods, pretending to zip his mouth shut.

Yeah, he could get used to this friendship.

 

\- - - 

 

The next part of the plan was in action, and that was to go and retrieve Spencer Smith. It was an unexpected part of the plan- the other person didn't even know he would be part of this party-  but Brendon didn't care. Spencer was sort of his nicest friend, because Ryan had been... kind of distant recently. That's depressing, nevermind.

Ryan was supposed to be at the party, and Brendon's unwritten plan was to have a conversation with him.

When Brendon and Dallon arrive at Spencer's house, Brendon silently sighs in relief because his parents aren't home. That means his sibling, grandparents and weird uncle probably left too. Score. He's not prepared for his own parents screaming at him tomorrow, but Brendon thought that it would be worth it anyways.

"Open up, motherfucker!" Brendon yells at the door, rapping his knuckles on the wooden frame of the door a few times. He can hear Spencer cursing under his breath, shuffling around and dropping something loudly. 

Spencer opens the door and only blinks, confused. "The fuck?"

"We are taking you to a party." Is all Brendon replies with, grinning from ear to ear. He moves over to show Spencer Dallon, waving from his car that's parked out front. Spencer blinks again.

It's a few seconds before he fully registers what's happening, and even then Spencer is continually confused. "What. The. Fuck."

" _We are taking you to a party._ What are you, deaf?"

Spencer sighs, loudly and in frustration. "No, and I'm not stupid either. I'm not going with you." He moves to slam the door closed, but Spencer is stupid for trying to deny Brendon Boyd Urie something like this. It's futile. He always gets his way. Brendon sticks his foot in the door, wincing at the sharp pain. It looked cooler in the movies.

"Brendon. Move your stupid foot."

Brendon shakes his head even though the other man can't hear him. "Spencer. Move your lazy ass outside."

"I don't  _wanna,_ Brendon!"

"What, did I interrupt you jacking off to Anne Hathaway or something?" Brendon smirks, and Spencer turns red. It's rare that he brings up Spencer's awkward female actor kink, but when he does, it's fantastically conducted. Teasing- Brendon is good at it. He's proud of that fact. 

Spencer isn't impressed. "I wasn't even- okay! Fine, fuck you."

"You wish."

"Ugh." Spencer rolls his eyes, and shuts the door. He can hear him shuffle around for some things, and then he opens the door back up, holding his wallet and house key. One time, Brendon was out with Spencer for a bit too late and he forgot his keys. He had to sleep on the porch, much to his own horror and Brendon's amusement. He took a picture, it's still his wallpaper. 

He thought that the next phase of his heavily constructed plan was in action, but Dallon had another sidestep. "We gotta pick up my other friend, first. Then we can go set up."

Brendon had to ask. "Jon?"

"Mhhm."

The car ride starts out quiet, but it's only mere minutes before Brendon's (and Spencer's) phones begun to vibrate intensely. They give one another knowing looks, and Spencer groans loudly in frustration.

"What kind of person holds a party on a Thursday, anyways!?"

 

\- - -

Jon is unexpectedly one of the most calm and collected person that Brendon has ever met.

Jon introduced himself, smiling wide. He has scruff and messy hair, but he's otherwise very nice looking, with jeans and a shirt with some soda logo on it and-

"Yo, are you wearing flipflops?" Brendon asks, turned around almost fully in the seat of the car to stare at him. Jon just smiles, lopsided and obviously high. 

"Yep." He says, and earns a concerned glance from Spencer beside him. Dallon just chuckles, shaking his head from side to side. "What, does someone here have a foot fetish or somethin'? Dallon, bro, you hiding that from me?"

Dallon laughs aloud, and so does Brendon, but Spencer doesn't exactly find it funny. He huffs, holding his hands up in confusion. "It's January..."

"Don't insult the flops, man. They're my pride and joy."

Dallon interjected. "At least his feet don't smell bad. You know who's feet _do_  smell bad? Ryan's."

Brendon can't agree more. He nods vigorously, any chance to talk about Ryan is a good one in his book. He misses him, Ryan has seen the best and worst of Brendon and suddenly being distant isn't what he wanted their friendship to turn into once Brendon started befriending other people. "He never wears socks, I think that's why."

"What happened to flipflop culture, man? I miss that shit. They're so comfortable."

"What if you catch one of those foot parasites?" Spencer asked, and Brendon loudly groaned from the front seat. "Hey- shut up. It's a genuine question. I've seen Animal Planet, you know, that new show where the person gets infected with bugs and stuff?" 

"Are you talking about  _Monsters Inside Me_?" Jon asked, his face suddenly lit up in glee. "Man, I love that show! Science is fucking wack."

For the first time that day, Spencer smiled. 

 

\- - - 

 

Setting up for a party was, as Brendon knew it was gonna be, a pain in his ass. Literally, he can't tell someone how many times he tripped over the marbles Spencer accidentally spilled all over the kitchen floor. "You're supposed to be helping!" Dallon had said, frustrated. Spencer shrugged, and replied with "It adds a challenge aspect."

Needless to say, Jon laughed his ass off every time Brendon tripped. He's lucky that the dude is so nice and calm, otherwise he would've already choked the fucker to death.

"Where do we put your fancy China?" Jon asked, holding up an expensive looking plate. Honestly? Everything in this house was a mystery. Brendon is almost convinced that this isn't really his home, and he's just stolen it from an elderly couple with dementia or something. "Where do you even get this shit, man...?"

"Oh, put that in the cupboard with the lock. It's my ma's, not really mine. I eat off of it, so I don't know what value it has anymore. I should sell it."

"Wouldn't that piss your mom off?" Spencer asks, genuinely curious. "Can't she like... revoke your allowance, or something?"

Dallon snorts, shaking his head softly. "Allowance? What is this, 1986?"

Jon chuckled, which he was doing a lot of recently. "Nah, what mom takes their kids earned stuff away? It's like, I worked for my allowance. That'd be kind of unfair and all."

Brendon sighs. "You haven't met our parents, then. They're nutjobs-"

"Hey, hold up." Dallon interjected, staring down at his phone in deep concentration. Hid eyebrows were furrowed intensley, which usually meant that something was wrong.

Jon commented first. "What's up?"

"Well..." Dallon says, unsure of how to phrase these next few sentences. He has to, so that these boys don't freak out. "Ryan isn't coming to the party, that's for sure..."

He's bombarded with questions, which Dallon should've expected. "What?!" said Spencer, sounding concerned. "Why not?"

He sighs deeply. "Uh, that's because Ryan is in the hospital."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops haha. thanks to everyone reading
> 
> for anyone wondering; this will NOT be ryden. the things i have planned conclude that ryan and brendon will never explore a romantic relationship!
> 
> sorry in advance for the shitty updating lol

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter - @laquoart [ inactive ]
> 
> Tumblr - @pangst


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